The Way the Sky Would Like to Touch the Snow - Ruth Patrick

The Way the Sky Would Like to Touch the Snow

Falling away, frozen, I think that's how it feels
sort of like your heart, I guess
when you gave up on me
last year

but I drifted down slowly, light and geometric,
scattering on the winds swirling eddies
trying, hoping against hope
to climb back up into your frozen grace

My tears
froze into spider web rainbows
on the face of the clock which counts down the time
between then and now

and now
white winter rages again
but your rage has never cooled
cold as your soul, cold as the tears I cried
when they from into frost ferns on the windshields of my eyes
rendering my sight
barred and smoky like jail room shadows
thawing slowly
in the warmth of the ashes that fall
from my cigarette's ember
like pale soft snow, swirling in my warm breath
as I blow them
away from the pages of my book.

They rise, reluctantly,
fall heavy and soft
the way the sky
would like to touch the snow
and I finally realize it really was already over
even then.